Tight Spots
by Blue777Angel
Summary: A compilation of oneshots. Summary of Story 9: He thought she just misspelled it but judging from Kanazawa’s advice – the one he refused to take and wanted to reprimand – she did not and he was the one who misunderstood and thus made him a jerk.
1. Story 1

Disclaimer: I don't own La Corda D'Oro.

This is my first story for this anime. I hope you'll review afterwards!!

* * *

**Summary:** I can't feel my fingers. (In Kahoko's point of view)

* * *

**Love Has No Strings Attached**

As I lay helpless and weary on the white-coated hospital bed, with my right hand resting on a soft pillow beside me, I turned my head slowly toward the open window, watching the sunlight ooze through the clear glass and open spaces.

My red hair was in a messy fashion as they danced along, draping on my shoulders, ending with spikes formed by my locks.

And then I realized how long I've been lying here without getting a mere glimpse of my violin in its case.

It had been far too long.

I miss it.

Tsuchiura, Hihara-senpai, Yunoki-senpai, Shimizu, Fuyuumi, and Amou as well as my other friends have been visiting me everyday for the passed few weeks. And only Tsukimori decided to stay until dawn tomorrow and watch me as I sleep.

Pity…

Figures; he's probably exhausted right now that's why he even chose to sleep with only his head resting on a spot of on my bed.

But I'm glad he's here.

I'm glad he brought his music here through his violin.

And I'm glad he decided to stay even though I've lost the magic touch of my right fingers.

They've stopped working after that accident.

And that day remained as vivid as day.

_I'm drenched in rainwater now and I hope that my precious violin doesn't get wet! Darn this weather! Why does it have to rain when I don't have my umbrella! And why does it have to be this heavy!?_

_I was sure to catch a cold or get the flu later on that's why I have to dash my home through this never-ending rain! _

_The ground was so slippery and my shoes barely got a grip on it. _

_I might slip up and get injured. Definitely, Tsukimori wouldn't enjoy that. My fingers…I have to take care of them. They're the ones I use to make music…_

_Tsukimori-kun…is worried about my fingers and the way I perform on stage. That and nothing else. Why should I even expect something more?_

_We're different._

_Our music is diverse._

_And they won't ever synchronize even if I practice until my eyes bleed._

_Never._

_The way he plays the violin with his bow is just far superb! This is the reason why I can't expect or even just dream about receiving any reciprocated affections from him._

_Why? Why of all people on earth? Why did my heart go goo-goo over him?? _

_His life practically revolves around music! From the very start of this pointless love for him, it already promised a __ton__ of bumps and cracks on the way. Now it's far too late. I already broke myself into pieces and super glue won't be able to fix this._

_Not even solace from another._

_Maybe…he can. Tsukimori…can…_

_Len Tsukimori…a name with a certain ring attached on every syllable. Especially on his first name, Len. I always manage, even once a day, to picture myself calling him by the name Len. Or even if there's a –kun at the end. I just want to run up to him and shout 'Hi Len!'_

_And probably stick a few other words, too. Oh, let's say 'Hi Len! I love you!' _

_Yah right and pigs can fly._

_Kahoko Hino. Kahoko Tsukimori. _

_Darn, it doesn't even sound right. Even the sound of his voice calling me 'Kaho' doesn't sound nice._

_If only I can get by life with no strings attached._

_If only I could play the violin with no strings attached._

_If only I can come clean in front of him with these words I've said over and over in front of the mirror with no strings attached._

_Maybe then life can be perfect._

_Pft, a bunch of baloney._

_I can't exactly buy a ticket to paradise with a hundred yen, can I!?_

_Maybe I'm loon._

_Maybe I'm deranged._

_For falling for a guy like Len Tsukimori…_

_I scanned the place I managed to run to, trying to find any signs of my house._

_And that was totally ridiculous._

_Because this wasn't even an area near my house._

_This was a staircase._

_And I was a step away before plunging down and breaking my violin and bones on the cement ground._

_Black and blue was never my color and so I've decided to skip the several bumps and bruises that waited for me at the bottom. _

_Hmm, if I get injured, would Len try to nurse me?_

_Would he visit me and bring a bouquet of flowers then ask me how I'm feeling?_

_Or would he yell at me for almost breaking my fingers due to my idiocy?_

_I'm pretty certain it's the latter part._

_Was it so hard to have a little bit of fondness from him or maybe a teensy weensy touch of his care?_

_Was it that hard to ask God for a little bit of courage to admit my own feelings?_

_Has it…always been this easy…to be selfish?_

_Love, I just can't understand why…why it's so complex and hard. Why did I even fall for Tsukimori if I knew that it would be this way? Why did I…have to…hear his…music…? And why did it have to beckon me…to become closer to him to the point of loving every single detail of him?_

_And now, as I stood underneath grey clouds, in the rain, and in confusion, I could only be sure of one thing. _

"_The violin…is the key. It spoke to me…and told me…he was the partner…I never thought I'd want to have," I told no one in particular, puffs of hot air coming out as I uttered the words. _

"_I love…Len…Tsuki—" I turned around and saw it coming for me._

_My eyes didn't blink._

_And I knew this would become the accident I've been desperately trying to dodge._

_I just closed my eyes shut, the violin case held in my arms tightly._

_I managed to dart the fast moving bike. But…the several steps that kept me above the solid ground didn't hear my plea._

_I rolled down, the violin case still secured within my arms. Scratches…bruises…blood…_

_I'd probably see a lot more of that once I lay stiff on the ground._

_It hurts…_

_But unrequited love…made it more agonizing…tenfold…_

_Finally, I stopped by a bush, my body wrapped up with a ton of mainly cuts and bruises._

_I moved my eyes around, trying to search for my violin._

_There, it lied beside me._

_It was fine._

_At least…seeing it fine, it managed to bring a small smile back on my face._

_I tried to get up but the pain on my hip, and basically every part of my body prevented me from doing so…_

_And when I curled up into a ball to attempt to warm myself up from the douse of rain, I found out that it was more than scratches._

_I broke a few bones maybe._

_And what made it even worse…were the purple swelling…and the pain…_

_It wasn't just any part of my body._

_It didn't matter if my neck was broken._

_But, please, God please forbid this from happening._

_My right hand…my fingers…I can't…move them…nada…they won't even shiver…_

_Broken…they were broken…_

_And as I pulled my right hand toward my chest with my left one, I felt a huge pang on my heart. Maybe it was…the fact that I might disappoint Tsukimori…with these broken fingers…_

_I winced in pain._

_Not from the fractures and cuts…_

_But it was a pain that came from something thumping against my chest._

_My tears finally began their journey across my pale cheeks._

_I don't even know if I was crying because of my physical injuries, for myself, or for Tsukimori. _

_All I know is…I just want to let it all out…alone…_

_And I just don't want anyone…especially Tsukimori…to find me here…crying…_

_I opened my mouth, my hand still tucked in my wet clothes. "I'm sorry…Len-kun…sorry…"_

And I still can't believe that I can't move my fingers.

I can't believe I still have to stay here away from my violin and the fact that he didn't even yell at me when he saw me in the hospital breathing through a tube and merely came to visit me everyday.

Even if he doesn't talk to me a lot, at least, I get to see his face.

His face…is so surreal because of the serene atmosphere it gives off.

He's different when he sleeps.

He's an angel at rest and a bit like a devil when he's awake.

My left hand unhurriedly slipped out of the white sheets that kept me warm, slowly crawling out to his smooth skin.

My fingertips itched for the feeling.

That was when he fluttered his eyes open.

And a soft gaze followed my fingers. It was amazing how he kept me frozen with only the strike of his eyes.

His mouth gaped a little, as if he was going to say something.

But he just lifted himself up; probably because he knew that I wanted to touch his face.

And he probably had a hint what that meant.

I love him.

He just looked at me, pure calmness engulfing me completely.

And before I knew it, he had already placed his lips on mine, his hands searching for my left one.

He placed my hand on his cheek, his hands working their way to cup my face.

His lips moved so slowly on mine, as if he knew that this was my first real kiss.

It was like the first time I played the violin, only this was more thrilling.

It was more breathtaking than any romance movie or novel I've read.

It made the delicate strands of hair on my skin stand.

It was eradicating the sense out of me!

And yet…the essence of pure romance drifted along in my sea of fulfilled dreams.

But before I realize it, he pulled away, his fingertips left to tend my red cheeks.

"Tsukimori…" I sighed, my breathing still at a fast pace as I felt his touch caressing my skin.

He placed his lips near me and I felt his breath traveling along my neck and cheeks.

"Len…" I heard him say through the loud thumping of my heart.

"Call me…Len, Kaho…" he said, his eyes still stuck like glue to my pair of brown ones.

His blue hair fell before his orbs, a light streak of crimson appearing like magic on his complexion.

I smiled.

My tears wanted to make rivers out of my cheeks as I replayed his voice inside my head.

"Kaho…get better soon…and let's play our violins again…together…"

He yanked out a paper crane out of his pocket and placed it on my right hand.

I saw a few familiar notes on a staff. A name. Ave Maria.

I grinned at him once more, my left hand wiping the tears that stood frozen at the edge of my eyes.

"I'd like that…"

—_End_.

* * *

So, this is my first story for La Corda D'Oro. Please give me your honest reviews!!

I hope you liked it!!


	2. Story 2

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for the plot.

OK, this one might suck. Just review.

* * *

**Summary:** Do you get it?

* * *

**The Law of Implying**

A head of red layered hair went steady, its auburn eyes glued to the blue-haired violinist that stroked the strings installed deep within her. 'Ah…his finger techniques…are so perfect…down to each and every note he plays…' she thought as she secretly gawked at him, a dreamy syndrome beginning to course through her veins.

His hair swayed violently at the awesome way he moved his fingers, his elbows and torso, his eyes closed and his mind completely focused on his performance.

It was supposed to be a practice meant for none but Kahoko just _happened_ to sneak into the room and hide behind the piano.

Oh good Lord, down Kahoko, down!

As she stared at him some more and threw a few more mental comments on his mini, concerto, she lost control over her jaw and slowly, it began to fall on the floor, causing a major drool alert to wake her up.

'Oh darn! I'm drooling!'

Kahoko gave herself a little pinch on the back of her hand and cheek, wiping the spit that managed to flow a few centimeters down her chin.

Len cracked his eyes open, eying the room with his stern gaze, searching for the culprit behind the squeaks he heard.

And as if luck was against Kahoko, he spotted her shoes behind the piano and sighed. 'No point in scolding this girl; she's too stupid to understand…'

"You there," he began in his cold voice, pointing to her feet with his bow. "—I know you're there. How'd you get in, Hino?" he asked, walking over casually to her spot.

Hino laughed sheepishly as she lifted herself up unhurriedly, revealing her guilty, brown eyes and crooked smile that explained everything she's been doing. "So…ah…Beethoven's Violin Romance…nice…?" she uttered out of the blue, hesitantly.

Kahoko inched closer to the door, her violin case behind her. "So ah…I ah…came to watch you play…" she said, barely making her words straight and meaningful.

"And you just happened to sneak in here without permission?" He arched an eyebrow, his bow pointing accusingly at her. Kahoko smiled, her goofed up state giving a much worse impression to Tsukimori.

"I…like your bow…?"

"Confused, are we now, Hino?"

"N-no…Tsukimori-kun…" she stammered, her chin burying into her chest as she kept her head low.

"I'll cut you some slack for today since you stammered."

Kahoko perked up a little, rubbing her hand on the back of her head as she continued her train of 'ha-ha's' and 'ano's'. And what deemed to be eternity ended as her left hand clutched for the cold knob behind her and yanked the door open, darting out as fast as lightning.

Tsukimori sighed for the second time around, filing his music sheets into one, thick stack and placed it on the wooden table in the corner.

Just his luck with women. His luck with Kahoko, to be more specific.

He plunked himself on a chair and slumped his shoulders, burying his right cheek into his right palm. His left hand smothered itself on his blue hair, making it look unruly like he had just woken up from one night's drinking.

If only he bit his tongue earlier at the breakfast table; maybe by doing so he can stop any cold words from slipping out of his mouth. Truly, his mouth was the devil's workshop. Why, you ask?

Number one, he drove the girl he liked since God-knows-when away in devastated state.

Number two, he practically eradicated her head because of all those penetrating questions not to mention the use of his cold tone and piercing looks.

Number three, he pointed out the fact that she stammered and made her even more embarrassed than ever.

Number four, he didn't stop her.

Number five, he's just sitting there like a dead tree.

He groaned a bit, grasping on his velvety hair as he tried desperately not to hammer his head on the table umpteen times.

Len can't exactly just swoop down beside her like an apparition and tell her 'Hey, babe, what's shaking? Do you want to make out?'

If anyone could, it'll be Yunoki-senpai.

A three syllable sentence with three basic words that even a kindergarten student understands was just so damn hard for him to say!

It's like making and infant say supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.

If this guy had one wish, it'd be the ability to stand beside her and say 'Hey, want to catch a movie or something?'

Sounds simple, right?

--

Kahoko held the violin in her hands, thinking about how dumb she's been. Well, gawking could still be acceptable but drooling was another story.

She just can't keep doing that!

He's just too…_gorgeous_!

Hot to be more specific.

And like any phenomenon in the world, Len Tsukimori just had to be so darn irresistible to meddle with.

"Ah…so…handsome…" she sighed, placing an arm atop her forehead, squirming around as she pictured herself being snuggled by Tsukimori on a bitter, winter's day.

'Hmm, his face would be so much cooler with a snowy background. His eyes and hair just match perfectly! Kya!! Wouldn't it be nice if he held me tight!?' she thought, hugging her instrument as if it was him.

Kahoko moaned a bit, getting to the part wherein Tsukimori would ravish her lips with his.

Unbeknownst to the girl, the guy that she was currently thinking about was five feet near her.

"What the…" Kahoko propped back on her feet, her violin suddenly placed into position. Wrong move, Kahoko, wrong.

Kahoko blanched at the sight of Len Tsukimori who never got enough sunlight right in front of her. Why? Why of all the possible embarrassing moments did he have to see that one wherein she _snuggled_ her violin!?

"Cold weather we're having…" she stated, dropping a few more temperatures when she realized that it was the middle of May.

"It's spring…" he stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

Kahoko began sweating, her fingers trembling as the words that she had managed to get a grip on managed to escape. "Well, you know what they say…" she began, her eyes darting within their frames, not knowing what should come next. "—Love changes winter into…spring…"

Kahoko giggled hoarsely, her eyes looking stressed as she gave him a light punch on the shoulder.

"Love huh?"

Kahoko, her stance still intact, decided to make some music. More likely, make funny noises come out.

As her arm guided her hands, she closed he eyes, trying to make herself disappear like dust particles. Len arched an eyebrow, the horrid sounds sinking into his head. All wrong! Ave Maria became Oh My Hysteria!

It sounded worse than a sheep being strangled!

It sounded worse than Tsuchiura singing opera!

What a great worst-case scenario, Kahoko!

"Stop it, just stop it… You're clearly out of it…" he said, taking the violin from her hands.

"I was…ugh…thinking…" she stated, leaning on the trunk of the tree.

"Obviously…" he replied.

Kahoko was clad with a deep coating of nervousness and pressure as she plunked down on the grass to try and put herself back together.

Len sat right beside her, worsening the already agonizing hell for her. What made it much more devastating was when his exposed skin managed to brush passed hers. Oh God, it made her twitch.

"So ah…how's the concours?" she asked, her lips trembling.

"The concours ended a month ago…" Kahoko could feel her sensitive complexion freezing as she realized that she said something outdated.

"Ah, oh yeah… Oh my goodness, I don't know what came over me!"

Len raised an eyebrow, tracing her moves with his stern looks. He himself is at a wreck. Hasn't she noticed the fact that he's only stated less than forty words!?

"So ah…love. It makes…winter turn into…another…season."

And he just had to say something that would make him hurl. Kahoko stiffened a bit, hugging her knees as she gave herself a whack on the jaw mentally. "Ah…yes…"

Silence—nature indeed implied a great thing here.

Speak up.

"Are you in love, Hino?" Kahoko blushed beet red, multiple images of Len flashing before a wide screen that existed in her head. "Yup, although it could be a nuisance sometimes, I'm a bit glad a fell for that guy."

"Which guy in particular?" Tsukimori, with his piercing, stern eyes, looked at her and he seemed fit to kill.

_Oh, let's say, the guy looking at me right now's the one. Yeah, I think you're hot_, she thought, smiling sheepishly, taken aback by his sudden question.

"Some guy who can play the instrument extremely well," was her answer, lifting herself up before anything goes to a steep cliff.

"Are you saying that I'm inferior to that guy?" Kahoko shot him a curious look, arching an eyebrow. Tsukimori dusted some grass of his pants, gripped her shoulders none too gently and glued his eyes onto hers. Oh boy.

Goody-goody, he was up for it now. And he's a word away from unveiling his wild side. A side that no one but her mom knew from when she found his bed wet from…_you_-_kn­ow_-_what_ after a steamy dream.

The violinist, turning oh-so suddenly into a savage but still ravishing young man, pinned the red-headed lass into the rough trunk of the three, his eyes still penetrating hers. "Ah, Tsukimori…this is not what I had in mind for…err…a proper conversation…" she uttered, her eyes darting around their frames.

"I know which is why I've taken the liberty of changing your mind."

"And what are you implying?"

"Damn." Kahoko felt hot blood in her cheeks as she watched his lips say 'damn'. 'Darn, he still looks gorgeous…' she thought, biting her lower lip, not knowing that it made her even more tempting to his eyes.

"I don't…quite understand…"

"Geez, Kaho…" he murmured softly, pressing his lips against her cheek. "Call me Len…"

"What are you…trying to say here?" she asked once more.

His eyes traveled down her face, down to her plum lips. Kahoko, still dazed, found him pressing his lips light on hers, moving them slowly. His hands managed to snake around her slender frame, pushing her body nearer to his.

She got the message.

_Clearly_…

Willingly, she responded, trying to keep up with his pace.

Her arms managed to wrap around his neck and her hands ruffled his hair.

And thus, the young man sneered inwardly, contented with her answer. Perhaps _too_ joyed.

And when he pulled away, she stared at him, mouth gaped, eyes wide. "Do you get it?"

—_End_

Yes, I know this was a bit different from what I expected. But please bare with me. I'm quite new here and I haven't read much of the stories of this anime. As all of you may know, the archive is not that full. If anyone can give me advice, I'm willing to take the harsh criticisms.

But don't take to the top.

* * *


	3. Story 3

Disclaimer: I don't own La Corda D'Oro.

This is sort of a birthday special. It has parts. And guess who the birthday girl is. ME!! Well, review! Don't forget my birthday on May 22!!

* * *

**Summary: **What else am I supposed to do? Jump forward and wrap my arms around him and say 'Hey Hubby, take me to bed…NOW…'?

* * *

**Why Oh Why? **(Part 1)

A few lights oozed through the window of the moving cab and illuminated me out of the darkness of the back seat. I heard a few beeps from the front, indicating that I should be counting my bills now.

I saw a beam of red in the corner and the cab abruptly stopped, its wheels squeaking against the rough road. I involuntarily leaned forward and clutched on the seat in front of me, preventing myself from smashing my face onto the carpeted ground.

And I was going to pay possibly a hundred dollars for a bumpy ride!? This is…ridiculous!

At the thought of my fingers pulling out a crisp red bill from my brown, leather purse, I sighed, thinking how many key chains I could have bought my friends with it.

The driver leaned back with a soft sigh, his hands still intact with the wheel, his calloused fingers drumming on it. He looked irritated, in my view, since we've been in and out of traffic jams for the passed forty minutes.

I, myself, am also annoyed but not by the long wait. It's because of the loud drumming of his fingers that made my head hurt. And I could swear he's been throwing daggers at me with his eyes from the mirror.

But I had to keep my cool or I'll be thrown out of this car and will be left alone in the highway.

Bored, I peered out of the glass and stared at the Chinese people walking along the sidewalk briskly, the crowd seemingly forming one big animal due to the fact that they were squeezed together into one bundle.

That's quite right and it looks like you're a winner. I'm not in Japan. I'm in Hong Kong. Sorry, I could only give this little tale about my travel as the prize _and_ consolation. Call me a tightwad; I'm still me.

My friends are probably wondering what I'm doing in Hong Kong.

Truth be told, I'm curious as well.

Hmm, let's see, I'm twenty three years old and I'm a music teacher at an elementary school. Oh, and I also teach about our culture. Of course, I love the children but it gets pretty stressful which is why I've taken the liberty of taking two weeks off here in Hong Kong…alone.

I knew I should've brought someone along…even if it's just Lili. But he wouldn't be much help. It stinks to be a teacher. You never have the time to spend with friends!

I can even count the number of friends I've talked to this week on my fingers!

At least I still have music. Yeah, it's funny how a clumsy girl like me kept up with the violin and even made it through college.

The pay is good and the children are nice. I can say that my life's going pretty well.

But I can't help but feel…the growing abyss within me.

It's probably because of…Len Tsukimori. Yes, Len Tsukimori is that said _abyss_. Oh let's see why. Oh yeah, it's as clear as day now; I never got the chance to tell him that I went gaga over him before we left high school.

I never told him 'Hey Len, I've fallen madly in love with you. Would _you_, Len Tsukimori my one and only love, please do me a favor and ask me out…please…' Yes, that sounded a bit stupid. Or really, really stupid but I wanted to tell him that.

I never said a single word about me daydreaming about us getting married at a beautiful church. I always pictured myself clad in a white wedding dress and him wearing a handsome tuxedo. And until now I still do that.

I'm a loon, I tell you.

The last time I saw him was three years ago, the year we had a little gathering. Len became this famous musician and I've heard he's in Europe on a tour.

Fuyuumi got into the music business and became stinking rich as well as famous for her merchandise and talent. And Shimizu…well he's with Yunoki-senpai, Tsuchiura and Hihara-senpai on a grand tour in Australia. It was quite funny how they became close.

It looks like I'm the only one who stayed on Earth, away from the heavenly beings that played beautifully with their instruments at Nirvana City.

Until now…I can't forget high school and the day we parted.

I can't seem to stop thinking about how Len left. Yeah, he smiled at me for the first time ever. If only I took a picture of it, I'd drool at it everyday.

Sadly, since then I've always been thinking about that guy and my love life spiraled down into a pit of hopelessness. Yup, I never got a boyfriend.

And I blame every bit of mischief and sorrow I have now on Len Tsukimori, the love of my life.

I should break this train of thoughts now and look at my cab fair. Ah…it's ninety dollars already. Damn this currency and this slow motion.

I can't wait to get back to the hotel and take a hot bath. I've been shopping nonstop and I've had five bandages on my right foot already and six on my left.

The pain, the dreaded pain!

The minute that seemed to be an eternity ended and the driver took note on my annoyed face and stepped on it, to my content. But my back digging its grave on the seat due to the intense speed was a big 'Hell NO'.

Is this guy insane or something? I'm a tourist for crying out loud—a tourist!! Give me a break because that's what I'm here for, a break!!

Finally - and when I say finally, I mean F-I-N-A-L-L-Y down to the letter – this crazy dude stopped in front of the hotel I've longed to see. But he did it the _rough way_ and made me lung forward and bump my head on the seat in front of me.

And I do not like it when I bump my head.

I bit my lower lip and grabbed my purse, taking out a crumpled up bill and placed on his hand. "Thank you…" I barked and roughly flung the door open and stuck my foot out.

And there I thought the string of colorful curses was over but no, I just had to fall my way out due to fatigue!!

I heard the cackling of the culprit behind my high temper and shot him a defiant stare which immediately silenced him.

This is a warning: do not make a Japanese girl mad if you don't want to be torn apart limb from limb. I have a lipstick and I'm not afraid to use it!

But what can I possibly do with make up? Ah…things only God knows.

I grabbed my bags and whipped my head away from that cursed cab and began to trot toward the entrance. Fortunately, I've saved enough cash to stay at this fancy hotel and shop till I drop. Hallelujah!

The bellboy took the heavy burden off my back and grabbed the six, humungous bags from me. I gave him a weary nod and tiredly hobbled my way to the lift.

I placed my aching body against the marble wall and breathed in a steady rhythm for the first time in the passed five hours. Thank God, I survived.

Yes, I wasn't oblivious to the fact that dozens of pairs of eyes were practically glued on me because of my…wrecked state. I could tell that what they're thinking about wasn't really the type that you'd smile at.

'Is she drunk?'

'Why would this hotel let a beggar in?'

'Was she raped or did she have sex?'

That last comment really hit the spot but I was too tired to even lift my forefinger. Fortunately for the poor soul who said that, I let it slide and minded my own business. But tomorrow isn't going to be his lucky day. He should expect a huge pile of knuckle sandwiches for breakfast tomorrow and guess who's feeding him. ME.

Ding—aching feet…

Ding—stiff shoulders…

Ding—empty stomach…

Ding—great, the lift's here.

I recollected the remaining pieces of myself and flipped a few wisps of my hair. Darn, why do the doors have to take a long time to open? What is this—a play? Or does it want to keep the suspense flowing or rather keep my blood rising?

Ding—I sighed as a saw the doors slowly part and a sighed – scratch that – gasped when I saw the spectacle it hid. God, my blood definitely rose.

A saw a splash of cerulean and a well built trunk, standing on long legs. I eyed the creature from head to toe and recognized a pair of cold irises. Darn, it's him.

He looked at me and smirked. He smirked, people. And even though he was being somewhat cocky while doing that, he's still hot…and cool. Talk about mini wars.

I was taken back by his presence and the fact that he's now taking a couple of strides forward. What else am I supposed to do? Jump forward and wrap my arms around him and say 'Hey Hubby, take me to bed…NOW…'?

Well, I would like that if I was allowed to do so. Too bad, I'm not his 'wife' nor am I his girlfriend. And so, I drew out the only thing that I could think of. "H-hey…T-T-Tsukimori-…kun…?" That definitely sounded weird…and it didn't even sound like a statement!

"Hey, Hino-san; I never imagined seeing you in this…state."

Oh God, his voice makes me melt like chocolate on a hot day! Damn his ability to make me want to pee!!

—_End _

OK, that's part 1 of my b-day special! I hope you liked it! And the rating…might go up. It depends on my conscience. **Review** please!! It can be your birthday gift! Thanks!


	4. Story 4

Disclaimer: I don't own La Corda D'Oro

So, the previous chapter will not be continued for now because I'm being torn apart by what's right and what's the fun but evil thing to do. I hope you understand. This story is to compensate.

OK, if you don't like AU, then read on (AN: :D) If you like AU, read on as well. If you want to see Len…in a different manner, read on. If you want to see the next story soon, read on and review. This is like a dark fic.

* * *

**Summary:** Under the dark blue blanketed skies with the moon full and red like blood, the creatures lurk in the shadows and a girl has yet to realize that.

* * *

**Bloody Red Passion**

It was a frigid eve and the wind kept blowing through her hair as she went on her journey home to have a good rest, to have a roof over her head, and to keep her safe from the creatures lurking around in this very night.

She had wondered why she had lost track of time and had only noticed when she heard a lone wolf's howl from a distance. Maybe it was the garden of dazzling, red roses that provoked her to stay and stare at them. And she couldn't help but pick some and put them in her basket and one in her hair that shared almost the same hue of the flower.

Blood red, the blossoms were blood red and it reminded her of her own blood, her flesh sliced open with sharp claws and teeth, and…_passion_?

She felt chilly all of a sudden and not because of the wind that relentlessly kept wafting. No, it was a sound that made her halt – a very pretty and lonely sound. And yet, it was so full of life, full of meanings, and passion.

She turned from left to right, searching for the serene tune that held her stunned and awed. And she didn't mind being eaten by the beasts that hid in the shadows as long as she would be able to catch even just a swift glimpse of the being that created the melody.

And as she took another turn to the left, by two large trees, a man with velvet, blue hair sat on a big rock, a near-golden instrument being played with his fingers. He was clad in black pants and a white shirt, a pair of buttons left open, and a red ribbon tied loosely around his neck.

The sight swept her away like dust particles, and it swept her to his direction.

The music stopped, the leaves rustled, and he focused his dazzling eyes to the girl who gazed at him beneath the stream of the subtle, red light. He smirked at her and lifted himself up from where he once plunked himself down, and walked slowly toward the girl.

She wouldn't budge; truth be told, she wanted him to move a little bit faster just so she could see his handsome face more closely.

"Who are you?" came his husky voice.

She shook her head and answered with a 'Hino Kahoko'. "And you, what's your name?" she asked, her eyes never leaving his face. "Len," he said, taking one more stride closer.

Kahoko took a step back but Len quickly snatched her left hand with his and brought it close to his lips, placing a peck on the delicate skin.

He smelled blood, sweet and pure blood that suited his taste buds best. He smirked to himself, returning her hand and brought his violin out once more. She looked at it with indescribable passion and ran a finger on its smooth surface.

She couldn't help but smile, the smile he rarely sees.

Len felt a single churn in his stomach and from that he changed his mind. He thought that she could only serve as his meal for the night and after having a few sips of her blood, he could've let her go. But she was different - he could tell from that simple grin she showcased and the way she looked at his violin. And at him…

Not fearful, but compassionate.

He then moved around her and positioned the instrument into her hands, guiding the bow with his. "Are you sure?" she asked, looking at him. He nodded, positioning his fingers.

The music began once more.

A personal favorite of his – Ave Maria.

Although he found himself engrossed with the soft music, he couldn't shake the feeling of tasting her blood and her lips off. Because he was different, because he wasn't human.

His sharp fangs displayed themselves and he neared his mouth to the exposed skin of her neck and found his teeth digging into her flesh. He knew it was painful for her, but he couldn't stop himself.

He heard her wince, giving him a feeling of regret and guilt but then, she just relaxed into him and his music, eyes still closed and unafraid.

As he expected, she did taste sweet, unlike the usual blood he sucked out of the others. She was different, different like him, and it made him somewhat glad because of it.

Kahoko knew from the way he acted, from the way his voice sung, from the way he played his instrument that he was not a typical man he meets everyday. And she loved the thought of it.

She just smiled tenderly, enjoying the tune that kept her heart at ease as he drank her blood.

And she'd wondered why she let him feast on her, why she didn't protest, why she didn't run and scream for help.

Why indeed?

Unhurriedly, Len removed his teeth from her flesh and stopped playing the violin as he swallowed another mouthful of her blood.

Kahoko heaved a sigh and looked at him warmly. He stared back, questioning that delicate look on her face. A queer feeling he had never felt before kept arousing the dead emotions he had buried before – a sensation he can't push away easily like the longing for blood.

She saw his lips coated in blood red and grinned once more, placing her hand on his left cheek, rubbing her thumb gently on his skin. It was smooth, just like an infant's skin. However, she felt only little warmth, so scarce.

His eyes kept her in thorough scrutiny and she could do nothing but give him her full consent.

Len, now confused, came to a resolute answer to the questions that kept his mind in frenzy.

He must have her as a woman, not as an animal he could devour.

He then brought his lips on hers, adding more pressure as the moments went by.

His strong arms wrapped around her small frame, holding her securely to his own.

And Kahoko couldn't argue, for she, too, loved the feeling of being held by this stranger.

Not long after, their lips came to part and Len had framed her face with his eyes once more, almost as if he was beckoning her to come join him.

And he made this thought true when he said 'come'.

She couldn't decline for she wanted to see what hid in the shadows, too, and to hear more of his heartwarming melodies. She wasn't sure but she could feel her heart go berserk with all the thumping, screaming that she was smitten by this man she had just met. And it seemed like a far-fetched reason to her uncertainty.

However, somewhere in her chest told her to trust him and just take the hand he has been offering for the past few moments.

She did, and keen eyes began tracing her face once more, and a pair of fingers ran through her red hair.

A blue rose, she found in her locks, right next to the red one she had put earlier. But she never knew such a flower existed.

"Where'd you find it?" she questioned.

"In the shadows," he replied.

He began pulling her hand, motioning her to come and follow him…_in the shadows_.

She feared it once, but now that someone was holding her hand and was willing to accompany her, she wanted to see it. In fact, deep down she had always wanted to see what was in the shadows.

Were there other beings like Len there that had the same bloody red passion?

Or was he a lone wolf?

She'll just have to find out.

--_End_

* * *

OK, so maybe this didn't turn out too dark, or rather it was nowhere near dark. But I wasn't expecting it to be like this. I'm surprised!

Boo!

Anyway, I hope you don't kill me with giant forks and big hammers for making Len a 'creature' that could either be like Edward Cullen or…something that cannot be defined by the words that exist. But I think he's just a vampire…minus the dying in the sun, turning into bats, or no reflection.

The dying because of a sharp wooden object is not an exception because anyone (except might beings) would probably die if you were stabbed repeatedly with a wooden weapon. With an exception for Harry Potter's magic stick or something. It just causes extreme annoyance by relentless poking.

So, I hope you review! Tell me if you loved the idea of Len looking hot with fangs and under a red moon!


	5. Story 5

Disclaimer: I don't own La Corda D'Oro.

OK, so the last one didn't get too many reviews and now, I'm down on both knees, begging you people to please review at least once! Or else, Story 3 will _never_ be continued! And perhaps I won't even bother adding stories anymore! Anyway (yes, I completely changed my mood), enjoy this one and review!

* * *

**Summary:** When Len suffered from the mental tortures of love, he chooses to take his mother's advice, much to his chagrin.

* * *

**Loveliest Love Letter**

Len was sitting, doing absolutely nothing by the window, head rested on his closed fist, sighing every now and then as if his cat died. And Misa just happened to walk past the door and chanced a swift glance at him; enhanced by her _mother instincts_, she sensed that her beloved son was indeed in need of some motherly aid.

Thus, Misa did what she thought she should do – she walked into the gloomy room – the room that was once bright and cheerful until it was infected by Len's aura – with a smile on her face that shooed the bad spirits away. But Len didn't notice, much to her disappointment.

She seated herself beside him, looking happy and at peace, whilst he sat carrying a sullen face. "Len, is there a problem? You seem spaced out and that's very unlikely of you," she said, peeking into his face with her gentle eyes, only to be greeted by a pair of cold, golden ones.

"It's nothing of significance, mother," he replied, turning away.

She just heaved a sigh and put a tender hand on his shoulder, giving it a couple of light pats. "Ah, so there is a problem; and the way I see it, it's about a girl." How she knew it was about a girl was beyond his thinking prowess.

The ways of a mother are just too…_mysterious_.

Needless to say, Len was puzzled and the word 'girl' kept ringing in his head, coursing deep into his veins, hitting him like a steel, baseball bat. And his head hurt – well, it has been hurting since that very morning.

"You know, Len, you can sort out your problems by jotting them down on paper. I know! Why don't you write her a love letter? I think your words might be able to sway her. You have a way with words that can woo girls, you know. What have you got to lose?" And Len shook his head, eying her mother through his unruly hair (it was neat a while ago but since he's been facing a dilemma beyond his capacity to solve problems, he took his frustration out on his locks by running his hands through it frequently).

"_Maybe the majority of youth?_ Isn't that quite cliché? As far as I can remember I do _not_ have a way with words," he said, an eyebrow raised. "But it's worth a shot, Len," she said, lifting herself up and went out of the room, guessing that she's done _quite enough_ for her grumpy son.

Len looked thoughtful and stood up as well, his hands stuffed in his pockets, and paced around the room. "Perhaps," he muttered to himself. "—perhaps I should try."

The cobalt-haired teen walked briskly to his room and upon reaching his desk, he brought out a _thick_ stack of clean sheets of paper and five very fancy pens from his drawer.

He seated himself on the mahogany chair, cleared his throat, and went through his broad vocabulary; the same one he had recently forgotten after he began fantasizing about a certain Kahoko Hino dressed in a white gown with a bouquet of flowers in her hands. Now, we can all picture this, right?

Len began sweating and panting, like he just ran twenty miles for the past hour.

His hand was unsteady and some black ink stained the white paper. Frustrated, he crushed the innocent piece of paper with his left hand, and threw it out the open window. Yes, the window, because he had overlooked the fact that he had a trashcan right beside him.

He could have sworn he heard someone yell 'Ouch! My eye!' from outside, but, nevertheless, he didn't care and he took no fault in the act.

He sighed and threw his head back to recover some of the many thoughts he had come up since this morning. He wondered where all the 'I love you quotes' went.

Now he questioned the reason why, in Pete's name, he even fantasized about love.

But this was no time to ponder about the idiotic things he's been through sine this the sun woke him up, he was going to write with his spectacular words and his legible, script handwriting a love letter.

He rubbed his right arm (because it was tingling) and his right hand, seemingly, began moving intensely. He scribbled and wrote, scribbled and wrote, scribbled and wrote, scribbled and wrote.

Misa peeked into his son's room, although she was aware that Len has many times stated 'Don't come into my room without my consent' after each time she tried to check on her little boy, who was no longer little.

But she was quite certain that he wouldn't even notice that she was there, unlike the usual Len who could sense so much as a tiny mouse by his door. And it still remained a mystery to her on how he could do that. A mystery…

However, that was insignificant for she saw her only child scribbling seriously in bold, script letters on a thin sheet of paper, his head steady, and his wrist moving briskly.

She gasped silently and eyed him more. 'Len…' she thought, noticing the stern and determined aura Len was giving off. And all this because of one girl. 'I must meet this girl when I have the chance.'

Misa smiled and her grin changed into an 'O' after seeing the speed of his hand intensify tenfold. His range of his movements extended and Len had almost gotten up from his seat.

It was passion! Passion! Burning passion!

And the pen against the paper rubbed so much that it produced smoke! Misa could sniff the dirtied air and she wanted to cry. Her son had finally found a heart.

Or was it just the soup she left unattended that was burning.

She realized that it was the soup from the way she exaggerated the scene – burning from intense passion was pretty much far-fetched, don't you think?

Misa sighed and walked away, knowing that Len was quite good with writing. But what worried her was what he _actually_ managed to write with all the big movements.

Meanwhile, Len was still jotting down his frustration on the paper, and it didn't actually look like a scene of two men fighting with blades. It was more like an inner-conflict, a confused lad of some sort.

But with burning passion, nevertheless, without stressing the 'burning' part.

'It's…done…' he thought, dropping the pen and letting it roll off the edge of the table.

He wiped his sweat off and gazed at his perfect handwriting and at his own silly words.

He never thought he would really take his mother's advice.

He never thought he would ever have to write a love letter.

He never thought he would ever have to address a love letter to Kahoko Hino.

And he was confused which among those thoughts sounded the weirdest.

'At least this whole ordeal was done without having mother to see me. Now, the problem is how I'll get this delivered…' he thought, scratching his chin. 'Len, what're you doing? This…this is ridiculous.'

Yes, it was, frankly, an act of stupidity for him.

He wanted to punch himself in the face and then shred that letter into strips of nothingness.

Was this the feeling of love?

Judging from the way his heart pumped faster than normal, from his crimson cheeks, and…words, it was the _authentic_ love monster, itself, taking its toll on the young man. Kudos to love for it had succeeded on manipulating his young mind. Well, it was the impression Len gave to love after watching tons of girls swooning over Yunoki's shadow.

He found it humorus, actually, being affected by love just like that. The thought of himself being smitten was funny, very funny that it was stupid enough to drive Einstein mad.

He shook the thought off and folded the paper twice, putting it in his school bag, having decided to leave the problem about delivering the letter without getting caught red-handed by anyone who had contact with Kahoko for tomorrow.

For now, he had to get some shut eye, even though it was only two in the afternoon.

--

--

Len walked around the General Education building quite nervously, amidst the fact that the place was deserted.

Now what was he doing here again?

Oh yes, he came to deliver his token of love to Kahoko's locker, after his mom told him to do just that. And he was ashamed that he, once again, had to leave the problem-solving to his mother even though he was already at the age of sixteen. He was practically an adult – just from observing his mature and quiet nature, he seemed like an adult.

Now that he thought about it, this was rather ironic. He was a mature, young man, with etiquettes, and yet here he was, sneaking around early in the morning like a little kid who had stolen a muffin from the kitchen, to do a _sinister_ act thought out by her brilliant mother.

Len was in too deep and if he was to turn back now, he would be a chicken – a chicken with a lot of feathers to be specific. And he was _not_ a type of poultry, whose only purpose is to serve as a decent meal.

He felt a lump in his throat and the air became thick, making it hard for him to breathe. Either that or he was just putting more pressure on himself.

He spotted Kahoko's locker, the same one he sees her using everyday. And how would he know which one in particular she owned? Well, Len sometimes sneaks around – for no logical reason at all – to catch a glimpse of the fair maiden. And so far, he hasn't been caught, not once.

Putting that thought aside, he shook the images of himself behind pillars taking innocent peeks of Kahoko off his already cluttered mind and slid the envelope into the narrow gape.

Problem solved? Not quite. In fact he has an even bigger problem and that is the outcome of his deeds.

God, he hadn't considered that part – rejection or mutual feelings. If she rejected him, he'd be crestfallen, humiliated and downright broken up inside. He might never fall in love again for fear of the same, tragic – yet somewhat hilarious – fate. However, if she does accept, what will he do? Will he follow the footsteps of the many TV dramas he sees his mother watch?

Hug her? Kiss her? Make a marriage proposal? State his unfaltering affections for all eternity? This was harder than he thought. How ever did his father do it?

What if she asks him out on a date? Aren't guys supposed to be the ones to make the first move? What if the time for their first kiss came when he was off-guard? Did he know the proper procedure of this…_mating_ _ritual_ among the youths?

What if he eventually ties the knot with her? How many kids will she demand? Will she force herself on him during the evening or will he be the one to accomplish that task? Will they have twins or triplets? What if she does something suggestive to him? What ever will he do?

A few more what-ifs crossed his mind and Len's face has turned ten shades darker than his usual dark pose. And only the sound of Kahoko's voice managed to wake him up from his reverie. "Ah, Len, what're you doing here? I'm sure it's not about music since the concours ended a while ago."

Len gulped, coughed, and turned around. "I simply lost an item here and I came back for it. Now that that matter is finished, I'm leaving."

"Why are you talking like that? Anyway, why would you lose an item here? Aren't you in the music-"

"Let's speak about this later at the rooftop," he found himself saying.

"OK. I'll see you at lunch." He gulped. Death's arrival was far too early.

God help him.

--

--

Lunch, it was lunch time and Len was not feasting on his lunch.

Apparently, he lost his appetite a while back.

Pity.

Len was nervous, to be frank, and all because of Kahoko Hino, the clumsiest girl he has ever met.

And speaking of Kahoko Hino, here she comes with a crooked and nervous smile on her face. Len knew what that smile meant, if it was even considered a smile, that is – rejection. And he could almost here the angels sing the word 'rejection' in a tone that would break a glass.

Great, just what he needed – angels who would tip him during times of need. Just like now – Kahoko was already standing in front of him.

None refused to speak.

But Kahoko was tough enough to break the ice with a 'hey' that Len considered as the beginning of a broken friendship and a devastated feeling. "You read it?" he asked, though he was certain enough that she did, seeing that it was right there in her hand.

"Yeah," she replied, nonetheless. "It was quite…ah…lovely…quite ah…abstract?"

Was he exaggerating it? Do all girls have the same quirks? "Anyway," she began. "What do you want to talk about?" And Len looked quite annoyed by her words, for he was sure that he put all his bloody feelings in that letter. Perhaps it was not enough love? Not enough passion?

But he was desperate. And he didn't really expect this, much to his chagrin. His arms wanted to hold her really tightly and then kiss her till her soul comes out, just so he can get the fact that he loved her to death into that thick skull of hers. And he did, much to his surprise and hers.

Len grabbed her shoulders, firmly but somewhat gently (if at all possible), and crashed his lips onto hers without giving her so much as a 'pucker up'. Kahoko, on the other hand, couldn't move in astonishment – astonished partly because there was another side of Len she had yet to familiarize and that he just French kissed her out in broad daylight.

Len wrapped his arms around her securely, not for the purpose of keeping her from falling but to keep her from escaping. Yes, he wouldn't let her escape until she answered 'yes'.

However, to his surprise, Kahoko did _not_ struggle at all but did what he least expected. And that was to wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. And to return his kiss with equal fervor.

But he didn't give a damn for that matter, and just pushed her to a wall nearby and pinned her wrist down with his hands. Fortunately, no one heard the muffled noises since they were alone. Indeed, his brain still works under a cluttered condition.

However, this time, his head was not functioning quite well for it came up with _thoughts_ contrary to his whole person. What was it? Well, his mind kept urging him to stuff his hand into her very short skirt. And must he say that he's fairly grateful to whomever designed the girls' uniform for he or she made it short.

But, of course, he didn't do it… Perhaps in the future when he takes her as his bride? Maybe more? He hopes so. Or he will have to resort to brute force (though he's certain that his wife-to-be would very much enjoy that).

Len felt Kahoko smile beneath his heavy kisses and from time to time, their eyes would meet for a brief moment. But he wasn't ashamed this time around.

Not ashamed that he just took advantage of kahoko's weak structure and the heat of the moment; not a single guilt.

Proud, perhaps?

Happy?

It was like he was sleeping – with her snuggling to him, of course because nothing'z more heavenly than having the girl of his dreams right next to him – on a fluffy, white cloud that continued to drift slowly.

But science had to destroy everything and went and popped his dream cloud with its cold facts and harsh words. This time, it used air as an excuse to break them apart, much to his utter annoyance.

He panted and so did she, cheeks red, and eyes steady. "I won't take no for an answer, Kahoko," he began, pushing his body closer to hers to keep her from fleeing. "That's quite unacceptable and unless you want to go home, you will…"

"I'll what? Be your girlfriend?"

"Precisely."

She nodded, cupping his face with her hands after the letter flew out of them; not that Len minded keeping an evidence of his sappiness.

He got the girl and solved his problems, now isn't that cliché? And there was no need to keep that love letter; in fact, he would like to tear it apart.

But what did the letter contain? Well, Len put his sweat and blood into this letter, if it was really a letter, that is.

On the floor the paper lied open and it only contained two words…or names.

'Hino Kahoko…' it said. It was written quite legibly and neatly onto the paper; perfect strokes, and unbroken lines. Yet, the meaning was unclear.

Where did all the _burning passion_ go, you ask? Well, aside from the few scorch marks on the paper, it was something that wasn't actually _seen_.

Back then, Len was _burning_ with _passion_ and all it takes for you to understand this phrase is the pronunciation. Yes, imagine a hormone-driven teen uttering the name of his loved one.

Now wasn't that a lovely love letter?

--_End_

* * *

OK, so the last part is quite confusing, right? So luckily for those who read up until here, imagine Len seductively calling out to Kahoko and you'll get my point. Understood?

I'm glad most of you liked Len being a vampire! Maybe next time he'll be a phantom! Review if you want to see the next story!


	6. Story 6

Disclaimer: I don't own La Corda D'Oro.

OK, so it's been a while since I updated and I'm glad a lot of you loved the idea of Len burning with passion, writing a sappy almost-love letter – in, somewhat, a perverted way. So, I came up with this a few days ago and I hope you like it.

* * *

**Summary:** Len disapproved of the fact that he was stupid but happened to prove that he can be an idiot without knowing all because of one problem.

* * *

**The Difference between Being Dumb, Flabbergasted, and Confused**

Len sat down before the eyes of utter scrutiny, a very girly, _pink_ teacup in his hand, waiting half-patiently and half-annoyed for this man's resolute conclusion, which may actually, for the first time in the history of man's evolution, help him out in this moment of turmoil. He was sure this man knew the answer and he was most undoubtedly sure he was enjoying every second of seeing him irritated and unsettled.

Trust Kanazawa to be so like…well, like himself in every aspect, as if the problem did not exist in the first place.

And he wondered which was more uncanny – his ex-teacher being ridiculously rude and impossibly annoying or the fact that his wife's been acting like another person for the past week, ever since that _long_ night - and only God knows how long it was. And it traumatized him – the sight of vomits, to be more specific, and seeing that girl eat _his_ _cooking_.

Well, Len here has a problem as mentioned before, needless to say, a big one – to him, at least, because he was more on the solid facts and possible reasons. Knowing this, Kanazawa thought that he might not be able to understand this drastic change in Kahoko and what effects it would do to him - it made him smile...giggle... rather, chortle like a monkey which annoyed the cobalt-haired man to no end.

The only thing Len did understand was that Kanazawa was making him look stupid, which was quite true in a sense, but, Len has a fool when it came to love and _marriage_ and the complex female race. Well the female race, for the most part.

But it wasn't his fault he was 'dumb' in this aspect of basic knowledge, and it wasn't his fault he refused to talk about it with his mother, whom he thought was laughing at him inwardly. Well, something in Misa's smile was irking in a way and it made him strangely uneasy.

It's either she knew quite well or she just enjoyed torturing him mentally. Or she has gone mental and is in need of proper treatment. Honestly, it seemed like it was the latter.

Len drank his tea, taking gulps slowly and calmly, amidst the fact there was an angry mob in his head, ready to burst out and murder Kanazawa for being so conceited due to the fact that he knew very well what the answer was. He said it was the answer to _life_ itself, which Len doubted, obviously, because of how he looked – he looked like a hippy, in Len's opinion and he doesn't actually just give out his trust to everyone, let alone a hippy of his kind. His wife was another story.

Kanazawa yawned, twirling a wisp of his grayish pink hair with his calloused finger, looking absolutely self-important and, needless to say, big-headed.

But anyone in the right mind would think the same and for worst case scenarios, chortle loudly and hit him violently and jokingly on the back, not caring even if he coughs out blood…_and his breakfast_.

"Kanazawa, are you going to sit there and wait until that big head of yours crushes you…_and me_ or are you going to tell me what the answer is?" he spoke in his sharp tongue, sharp enough to beat Harry Potter in a poking contest – his tongue versus his magic stick.

"You mean you haven't even made a simple guess? Didn't you graduate from university with top marks?" he said, raising an eyebrow, conceited as well in its own right.

"Are you telling me I'm stupid?" Len flinched, gritting his teeth. "No, no – it's just that I thought that you would know Kahoko well since you two have been married for a year – well, females, in general. What I'm trying to say is there's a difference between being stupid, flabbergasted and confused."

Len looked quite annoyed. And then he spoke.

"So I'm categorized under stupid, right?"

"No – confused, yes. Stupid, maybe." Kanazawa laughed, Len stared and stared and stared. One could tell he was serious and if he says he'll kill you right now, prepare your last will and coffin…and a wet tissue to wipe the blood.

"You humor me so much that I need a container to keep my mirth. Do me a favor and kill yourself."

"Ok, do you want to hear it or not?" Kanazawa turned serious and lapped his fingers whilst Len looked at him with the same dull expression that spelled 'is that a rhetorical question?' down to the letter.

"OK," Kanazawa began, taking a deep breath in as he scratched his chin, mulling over the easiest ways to say it without perplexing the young man, seeing as he was 'new' to this.

Len began sipping his cup – and quite frankly, this was the worst time to drink tea. And Kanazawa pretty much figured out that there never existed an easy way to break it to a man who defied the laws of miracles – kind of – and a man who was never really useful in the kitchen.

He gulped and brewed himself for the worst – be it a fainted Len or ten fingers wrapped around his neck, slowly crushing his it with the owner asking 'what do you mean!?' Either those two or Len will accept it, somehow, and God he hoped it was the last one.

He took in a deep breath.

He scrunched up his nose a bit.

And he put away any object that might cause his untimely death.

"Kahoko's pregnant. Congratulations."

Len dropped his teacup and spat – scratch that – sprayed the tea in his mouth all over kanazawa, who, in response, used his hand as a squeegee to swab those specks of tea on his face. "Was I too straightforward?"

Len's lip twitched in sync with the twitching of his left eye. His mouth was agape and 'WTF' was written all over his face.

And Kanazawa sighed, trying to figure out of Len was flabbergasted, confused, or just dumb. Quite frankly, he thought it was the latter.

—_End_

* * *

I bargain an update for some reviews. Do it or else. No updates until… some time in the future. Quite frankly, I haven't written anything for a few weeks. I'm so glad I was able to write a bit! Oh and updates might be a little...you know... and I just got sick. Yep, I'm sick - literally - and I'm still writing. My head's been aching for a few days and I still went through 8-9 hours of studying, now I'm typing for the sake of those who want to see the next story. Anyway, if you want to make me feel better and have another update soon, review. It's like the writer's salary for all the writing...in my perspective. Ciao.


	7. Story 7

Disclaimer: I don't own La Corda D'Oro.

OK, I'm going to let you guess the genre. I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

**Summary:** There are a lot of ways to express how you really feel but Len was confused about one part.

* * *

**Tape Recorder**

Len considered himself an idiot, much like a tape recorder that only repeats what it's taught to say.

He thought life was like a tape recorder in some cases – repetitive, annoying, and saddening.

And he himself was like a tape recorder for he was repetitive – repetitive of his feelings, his tactics of saying them, and his words. And so was she – recurring in her responses.

This time, Len thought of a new method in expressing his feelings without the use of words or symbols. Music, he would play Ave Maria in front of her and strum the strings as if it was the last time he would be able to play.

And he did; the notes flowed like the waters in the rivers, the way he drew his bow was smooth – he did it with perfection and grace. Yet, the abyss was there, no matter how much he tried to cover it up with the wonderful sounds of his violin. Everyone knew why, everyone knew – except him.

_More power…_

_Make it perfect…_

_Make her realize…_

_Make her respond…_

And then a big throng of emotions hit him and the strings broke with one stroke, the stroke second to the last note. He dropped his violin on the carpeted floor and the soft 'thud' woke up the crowd. This was new – but everyone knew why, except for him.

He gazed at her pretty face and he cleared his throat to utter the words he usually thinks about whenever he thought of telling her how he felt. Quite repetitive, the feeling was no different – it was ridiculous.

"I love you…" he whispers for only her ears to perceive. But the sound died before it reached her, and dissolved into the low murmurs of the audience from the back.

"I love you…" he said once more, a little louder than the first time he said it; however, she did not respond – the spectators grew silent as the seconds passed and he grew impatient.

"I love you!" he yelled and the tears he tried desperately to hold gushed out without his consent. The feeling threw him on his knees – he wept, he cried… for the first time. Everyone knew why – except for him.

He kept saying 'I love you' and the crowd remained silent in their seats, dug their graves there and held the sobs that threatened to come out. Tsuchiura and the rest looked away for they could not stand this one bit – a devastating scene that led the group to tears.

Len persisted with his feelings, even if the sentences that left his lips were nothing but mere recorded messages. But those words were the truth, and there wasn't any other way he could relay it in front of her. That, he knew.

Nevertheless, he knew that they weren't enough to make her realize.

A sonata was in front of him – she was there.

A familiar feeling engulfed all serenity…

A cold breeze kept him frozen, blew his hair and dried the tears on his cheeks.

A tape recorder, he remembered, and dug his hands into his pockets to get a black tape that contained his music, his words, and his feelings.

He lifted himself up and hesitantly looked at her.

She was smiling and it was enough to make him smile back; however, it wasn't enough to ease a mere fraction of his pain.

He sighed, for he longed to caress her face – to feel her warm skin, to hear her voice. But a thin glass stood in the way and all he could do was stare and cry and lament on what has already happened. God, it was repetitive.

And he placed the tape on the surface, a white rose beside it; he pushed his hands into his pockets and walked back to his seat.

Like a tape recorder, she had the same response whenever he told her he loved her. She repeated the same course of action even though she knew it hurt him.

He knew why.

She was already deaf.

She was already mute.

She was already blind.

And she was dead.

She's dead.

Kahoko's dead.

And it was repetitive.

Like a tape recorder…

—_End_

* * *

OK, so the genre is tragedy/romance. I think that's a first, right? Please don't kill me! It just came over me – I mean, what would happen if she died? The title was a bit confusing, eh? I'm sorry but I think it worked out… I think. Anyway, I have two stories being written and if you ever want to see them, review!


	8. Story 8

Disclaimer: I don't own La Corda D'Oro.

OK, I'll let you guess who the heck are the characters in this story are by taking note of the descriptions. But it's actually obvious, don't you think?

* * *

**Summary:** Nobody wants to get robbed in the middle of the night; or, in general, nobody wants to be woken up in the middle of the night for something insignificant like being robbed, especially students.

* * *

**Burglar Alert**

In the middle of the cold eve, underneath a blanket of velvety, midnight blue skies with stray glittering specks, the leaves rustle as the winds waft a chilly feeling, and the many inhabitants have drifted into a deep sleep.

So silent, so endearing – that was the night; perfect for sweet dreams and… _robbing_?

A few creaks echoed through a red-haired girl's room, and she tossed herself on her bed like pancakes. The irking sounds penetrated her hearing and she could sense an eerie presence lurking around - hardly.

She did not stir, fortunately for the thief's part.

He looked around the room and found nothing of much value; however, there was one thing he saw that was worth stealing, enough to get him through the night. It was breathing steadily, fast asleep and probably fancying something only she would understand.

Her chest rose and fell in a fixed rhythm and she frequently made subtle movements in the warm blanket that got tangled around her. And he envied that inanimate object, having been given permission to hug her tightly – and without her whining, at that.

She was pretty and seemed so soft for a girl with a slender frame.

The feel of her fine-looking skin must be tantalizing, he thought, and he wanted to lay even just one finger on it, run it across her cheek, and put it next to his lips.

Red hair flowed slickly passed her shoulders, a few strands masked a fraction of her face, and left just enough to have him standing still without chains to hold him in custody.

_What the…_

He shook the thought off all of a sudden when he realized he was a thief and she was the victim. Still, he was a man – a young high school boy to be specific – who subconsciously seeks for affection from a woman of his delight. And he thinks he's found her, on a beautiful night.

The wind blew through the window he had left open when he came in and caressed his soft cheeks. It was frigid and he, undoubtedly, needed some warmth to fix that up. Or was it a lame excuse to approach her? Either way, he'd do it. After all, it wasn't fair for him – she had no valuables in the room and he had to take something of equal worth to his efforts.

And thus, with his obstinate verdict and unchangeable desire that ate his insides, he began taking languid steps towards her bed, watching out for any objects that might cause her sudden waking.

She turned and unconsciously kicked her blanket off the bed; and it gave him a better view of her face, much to his content.

Clad in pink pajamas, she was, and not the usual women he sees whenever he robs their houses of valuables, who wear silk nightgowns and frilly clothing. And he had one comment: they made him gag.

_Slowly… slowly…_

He crept noiselessly towards her side and set his eyes upon her features.

She was lovely, quite lovely; and her lips tempted him to do what he had promised never to do: kiss a girl. But no one was watching and it was him versus a defenseless girl, not to mention a sleeping one.

He sighed, running a sole finger across her cheek; as he expected, it was delicate and it felt exquisite against his skin.

The wind blew passed him and onto her face, clearing her face of any more strands of red hair. A full view of her pink lips – perfect.

He bent over, putting his right hand on the mattress to support his body's weight, as he drew closer to the fair maiden.

Mere inches left between their lips and she fluttered her eyelids open to see what had caused her sleep that mild disturbance. They widened but he was quick enough to seal her mouth with his, preventing any screams from coming out.

Surprisingly, it didn't feel all that weird; matter of fact, it felt quite warm. And she couldn't and wouldn't fight him off, even if it was necessary. She was being robbed in the middle of the night and she didn't mind it one bit – queer.

'A thief?' she thought when suddenly their lips parted. He looked at her and she responded with the same, dull look he gave her.

A man in black stood in front of him, probably the same age as her, but it made no surprise to her. "Are you a thief?" came her direct question and he could only huff at the silliness of her question.

The familiar feel of the breeze against his skin was there.

He could feel it and he knew all too well that that meant he had to flee for the night.

"I'm going," he said, making her sit up all of a sudden. "Will you come again tomorrow?" she asked.

He replied with nothing but a cold turn and jumped out of her room. She knew it was a yes.

Surely, he'll come tomorrow and rob another kiss from her, but she wouldn't mind… nope, not one bit.

Blue hair and golden eyes – she'll remember that.

—_End_

* * *

OK, that stunk. First of all, there wasn't any name in specific, only little descriptions that lead you to who that person I'm referring to is. I didn't reveal that it was Len who was the – hot – thief in Kahoko's room until the end just to keep the suspense up and running. It was a bit difficult, you know, to not mention any details until the bitter end. Anyway, there's still the matter of those two stories – wait for them. Review!


	9. Story 9

Disclaimer: I don't own La Corda D'Oro.

OK, the weekend is here! Tomorrow I'm off-limits to the computer because of some blasted projects! Enjoy!

**Summary:** He thought she just misspelled it but judging from Kanazawa's advice – the one he refused to take and wanted to reprimand – she did not and he was the one who misunderstood and thus made him a jerk.

* * *

**Abbreviation, Spelling, and Grammar**

Len sat there, arms crossed, forehead creased, and his head feeling extremely painful, and thus added to his inner-conflict – a dispute that involved Kanazawa and taking his advice about women, to be more specific, Kahoko's sudden change of mood.

He was beginning to think that his teacher – if a teacher of his kind was considered as one, he says – did not know the answer, and quite frankly, he wasn't too surprised by that for he had anticipated a solid 'I don't know' from him. However, he'd expected it to come sooner – queer.

And for the nth time for the past thirty minutes inside the lonely staff room, he said "And you said 'Hino, I think you misspelled this', right?" which he replied with a single nod, for he has grown tired from saying 'yes'.

He's nodded 257 times already – he's neck was killing him.

And he desperately wanted to escape this four-walled room, a dungeon as he describes it, and forget that this even happened. But no – Kanazawa was quite persistent and considering that he was middle-aged, single, and a 'smoker', this was a surprise, even for Len who did not care about anything – kind of.

"Kanazawa," he began, stern as ever. "—are you sure you can help me because it wouldn't make any sense if I were to wait for an answer that is never going to come or doesn't make any sense. Either way, I don't want to spend my after-school hours here with my _teacher_."

His tone was monotonous, as usual, and Kanazawa could only chuckle at the way Len made the word 'teacher' sound, which was pretty funny, considering Len was believed to be kind by his unrelated audience, judging from his music.

Bitter and cold, Kanazawa thought, which is probably why he wasn't able to understand what Kahoko's sudden mood swing was about – not really surprising, knowing him. "Wait, let me get this straight. You told her 'Hino, I think you misspelled this' and then she ran away all of a sudden? Crying her eyes out?"

"Yes, Kanazawa, for the thousandth time that's what happened," he said, and the pink-haired man scratched his chin, imitating those detectives he saw on the evening TV soap operas.

"And this was after she gave you that letter?" he asked. Len rolled his eyes; obviously he was getting tired with the yes-or-no questions he kept throwing at him.

Len sighed and reached for his pocket; he had to move, fast, because he didn't want to grow old in there, and everyone in their right mind would think the same, especially if Kanazawa was scrutinizing every detail of your history.

"Here, read it all you want but I'm certain you won't find a single clue about what's happening to Kaho… err… Hino." Kanazawa smirked and grabbed the piece of folded paper, opened it and read the words inscribed on it – word, rather.

But was it even a word in the dictionary?

"See?" Len drummed his fingers on Kanazawa's desk and looked at him with that same, bored expression whilst he inspected the letter thoroughly.

And then, to his surprise, he stood up and wore his coat, the piece of paper in his hand, his class record on the other. Len followed him with his gaze and rested his head on his closed hand, anticipating his answer… or withdrawal.

However, the reply he got was fairly different from what he had expected – a hit on the head. "Kanazawa!?" he yelled but Kanazawa shot back a glare, for the first time. "What the hell are you still doing here, kid!?"

Len jumped up in surprise and went back to his usual calm composure. He wondered what he meant by 'still doing here' and mulled over that phrase a bit – and it annoyed his teacher, a lot and it earned him another hit on the head, much harder than the previous.

"Go and apologize to _your_ woman!"

Len was startled and took a step back, grabbing his jacket. "M-my woman?"

"Yes, you fool! Haven't you realized that Hino just told you she loves you and that you rejected her harshly!?"

Len looked confused and his brain has gone haywire all of a sudden, but that didn't stop him from bolting out of the room in a fast run and pushing his teacher aside, without so much as a thank you. But he understood, quite a lot actually, why his pupil was like that.

However, the thing about the letter was quite confusing. Even someone like Len who was quite smart was perplexed by the text imprinted on the two by two piece of paper.

Simple – it wasn't a word, yet it wasn't misspelled and Kanazawa understood every single bit of it. Why? Because he's confiscated a few of those things and managed to get some info about the kids today. Len, on the other hand, was not updated by what's new.

Three letters, it had, written in capitalized symbols, without punctuations or backgrounds to make it look pretty.

The paper she used was just ripped out of her notebook and the ink was pretty much mediocre.

But the content was fine – witty, actually.

ILY – it spelled 'ILY', a word or rather, abbreviation that wasn't actually too confusing, wouldn't you say?

—_End_

* * *

Yes, I know that stunk more than usual. Yeah, yeah, so sue me… _not_. Anyway, thanks a lot for reviewing the previous stories – I appreciate it! Now I'm off to do homework… or surf the net… Review!


End file.
